


Death is a Constant Easier then Love

by LapisLaysLazyontheLounge



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Lapis has Gay Feelings, Peridot now has Thoughts, She also can not emotion at all, Soviet Au, They are Complicated, but she also is the Worst at being emotive, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapisLaysLazyontheLounge/pseuds/LapisLaysLazyontheLounge
Summary: Soviet AU drabble based on Lapis struggling with her growing affection for her fake wife Peridot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickYoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickYoke/gifts).



            She reasons that Peridot is used to the not infrequent nightmares, the muttering in her sleep the twitching of fingers into fists and the eventual shuddering awake, breath billowing from her nose, ingrained training already unconsciously forcing into a normal rhythm.

           She reasons that her fake wife is used to coming home and the home pregnant with unspoken tension, the extra attention delivered to the slicing of a tomato or cucumber, the blades descent marked with suppressed skill she doesn’t recall wanting in the first place anymore. The awkward glancing, the lingering stares, the half-finished sentences that promise a… something neither of them is sure is there.

          She reasons that when they kiss, when they tell themselves the situation demands it or the façade they are presenting needs it to happen, that Peridot doesn’t feel fire trace down her bones, that a decade and half of loyalty don’t fall away and the desire to thread her hands in her hair doesn’t nearly overwhelm. No baffling urge to pull her in tighter then tighter, to kiss until the kiss isn’t a kiss, until loyalty and countries and ideologies mean nothing compared to a fire burning between them, the sweat stink of sex coiled around them in the bed they share but never shared, that lust and love don’t war with her mind.

         She reasons this because Lapis doesn’t feel any of it. None of the tension, the looks, the want, the need, the sheer amount of feelings that people in their position might be expected to experience. She reasons that she doesn’t feel because Peridot must not feel, that if Peridot felt it she would speak as she always does, more heart then head when nervous or pressured. She reasons this because if she admitted to herself that the long running nightmares had morphed from war and death, from pain inflicted and received to terror for a wife she was not married to, to visions of a happiness she had not thought available stolen away by scorned and vengeful masters, if she didn’t reason it away then would the lie be made a truth, a task made a desire and an objective made into love.


	2. Peridot Has Thoughts

         She thought too much. Calculation upon calculation, endless reams of thought, numbers, symbols and what was heretofore esoteric voodoo rendered into mathematics capable of producing the most lethal weapon in human history. When those thoughts didn’t occupy others did. The worry of being caught, of her self-imposed mission going wrong and winding up locked in some cell, men in suits asking endless questions in every manner they could think of, vindictive and eager to draw her secrets and betrayal out.  
     

       She thought about those consequences, the possibles, the certainties and uncertain variance in her life based her traitor status. How to breathe, how to move, how to act in a workplace that no longer was a place of joy but a case study in high stress workplace environs. The thoughts about a country that was increasingly becoming an abstraction and an enemy at the same time, the fading of loyalty and a replacement by apathy tinged with hate. About a new home that awaited her across the world, a country of ice and farms, ideology and old world roots stronger then the lands they sprang from. About a people she did not know but which she had consumed so much, to acclimatize, to understand and to believe she could mesh into a new machine of life with no more then extra work then a pre-calculus course.

     

      She thought about a home with a spy in it. A spy with near preternatural skill, who had beaten a man to death to defend her, a woman who’s cold apathy on introduction had given way to a woman who had a heart, buried but beautiful in its methodical and contradictory nature. She thought about how their kisses tasted, a fire of cold flame from given to her by her pretend wife, a lingering and consistent aftertaste of longing, a phantom yearn on her lips that she struggled to hide.  
       

      She thought about how she struggled to breathe around Lapis when she changed, how she had learned to master her face if not her loins, the frissons that felt like atomic fire when she smiled for her, that tired but radiant curling of lips that Peridot convinced herself was only between them. She thought about a negligee, a dress that fit her like hydrogen dioxide, about eyes that would glimmer with pain for flashes of an instant, about a thousand and one things that made Lapis Lazuli her. But what she refused to think about, to analyze and consider, to break down and rebuild into its original form to get the sense of its form, was the feelings that caused these thoughts. Peridot was many things but she would not fall subject to a dream that evidence had proved unreal.


	3. Peridot and a Wedding

           The unreality of standing at the altar waiting for Lapis was so strong it threatened to turn into a quantum event. In a tuxedo more expensive then the last three years of her paycheck, Peridot waited for Lapis to walk through the double oak doors down that long, narrow strip of eternity. Even though their marriage was already legal and binding before this Lapis had proposed. Truly and honestly proposed though in typical Lazuli fashion it had been after a night of carnal indulgence and while still lying in bed, Peridots head resting on Lapis’ clavicle. Now she stood there, hair slicked the way that Lapis had confessed on more than one occasion drove her crazy, the tick of her heart steadily increasing into a steady Flight of the Valkyries rhythm as she waited.

          She had thought about this day for 8 months now, through endless days of planning with Pearl someone she had assigned herself the role of Wedding Planner and successfully managed to frighten even Lapis with her attention to every detail in the planning of it. She had thought about it with Garnet, talking about love and hope and how to be a person worthy not just of Lapis but of herself. She had even thought about it with Amethyst, a person who had so much in common with her it had been remarked more than once they could’ve been sisters, about her secret fears, how she might fumble her vows, how a true marriage between her and Lapis might not work given the circumstances that put them together and a million and one things she had so rarely trusted outside of the deepest corners of herself, stuffed away by logic analytics and science.

        But most of all she thought about Lapis over those 8 months, the ever deepening bond, the jokes they developed, the movies they shared, the sex they had, the things that had built into what Lapis called a “შეუვალი დაწყვილების” an unbreakable pairing of the light and dark in both of them, a fusion of unparalleled beauty and danger. She thought of the way her hair felt underneath her hands, soft and wild, the way that smile she once had imagined was only for her broke out and confirmed the hypothesis, the endless banter and clash of wits that marked their daily conversations, the way Lapis sounded when she called her name in bed, a unparalleled crescendoing of her name issuing forth only to be choked in bliss at the final climax.  The way their faces would meet post coitus, the subtle breathing against and for each other and the inevitable giggles and kisses that would pepper from one to the other and the ritual I love you’s that neither had ever gotten enough of since they’d first said it.

      So when Peridot saw the doors open outwards, when she caught of the blue dress that even from a hundred feet away she could tell it was like molded glass around her, its coloring a perfect complement to her hair, the smile of uncertainty and love visible on her face, Peridots heart flew upwards lodging itself in her throat, tears already blinking their way into her eyes and in her mind she knew without a doubt it was the happiest day of her life.


End file.
